


Accolades and Ohana Part Five

by daffodil729



Series: Accolades and Ohana [5]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 17:37:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17228384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daffodil729/pseuds/daffodil729





	Accolades and Ohana Part Five

**Chapter 21: Chapter 21**

* * *

Callie's could have sworn her heart stopped when Danny told her the news in her office.

"What do you mean, they have him?" she asked, her voice at a higher pitch than normal.

Danny looked at her, sympathy in his eyes. "There was some sort of leak of the information. The cartel, this Ines fella, knew where the team was. From what Scott said, they were holding a little girl hostage and Steve gave himself up for her…switched places."

Callie wrapped her arms around herself. "Do they know where he's being held, Danny?"

"They're working on it. They're going to get him back, Callie."

Callie was determined to keep it together but couldn't help her eyes filling with tears. "It's the _cartel_. What shape is he going to be in when they get to him, Danny?"

"I don't know, babe. But they'll get him back and we'll go from there, okay? If anybody can survive this, it's him. And then we'll do whatever we have to do to put him back together again. Now, c'mere." Danny wrapped Callie in a tight hug. "It's alright. It's all going to be alright. You have more patients today, or do you want to go back to HQ with me?"

"I'll go back with you. Just let me fill Amy in and get my stuff together." She sighed heavily and pressed her hands to her face. "Damn it, Danny. Why him? Why is it always him? Why can't someone else suffer the fallout sometimes?"

"I don't know, babe," Danny said sadly. "I don't know."

* * *

Steve woke on the concrete floor with a shiver. Time had become meaningless. He didn't know if he'd been there hours or days and realized that it probably didn't really matter. He sniffled and rubbed his nose with his hand, coughing as he did.

"Shit," he mumbled to himself as he took stock of his body and how bad he felt. His head pounded. Given the dizziness and nausea he was experiencing, he'd suffered a concussion. He was pretty sure he was running a fever, either from the knife wound in his belly or the dirty water he'd been waterboarded with, or maybe both, or maybe he was coming down with something because of the damp, cold room he was being kept in. Ines hadn't been joking—he had his heart set on torture and was determined to make Steve suffer as much as humanly possible. He wished his team would find him quickly. He was trying to hang on, but it was getting harder by the minute. He couldn't stay awake for long periods at a time, and, much to the anger of Ines, he'd passed out during several beatings. Another shiver rolled through him causing his teeth to chatter. " _Shit._ "

The door opened then and Steve scrambled to move against the wall, protecting himself as much as possible.

"Sir?" a quiet voice said. "Sir?" A young Colombian woman entered the room, kneeling beside him. "I have water for you."

Steve looked at her and nodded his thanks as he took the bottle. "Thank you," he whispered after taking a small sip. "You speak English?"

"Yes," the woman replied. "My name is Elisabeth. May I ask yours?"

"Steve. Why are you here with them, with the cartel?" He coughed harshly, wincing at the pain in his chest.

"I was sold to the cartel by my stepfather years ago, after my mother passed. I'm not like them." She dipped a cloth in a bowl of water she'd brought with her. "You're feverish. Let me help?"

"Mm," Steve murmured. He was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. She pressed the cool, wet cloth against his forehead, then gently wiped his face.

"I'll try to get you some medicine," she said. "Something to bring down the fever at least. You need an antibiotic, but I don't think I'll be able to get that."

Steve sneezed. "'S okay. I will appreciate anything you can get me." He took another sip of water with a shaky hand.

"They're making you weak," Elisabeth told him. "It's part of their plan, I'm sure. Have they given you food?"

Steve shook his head. The thought of food, of putting anything into his mouth, chewing, and swallowing, caused the nausea from the concussion to become almost unbearable. Elisabeth must have noticed. She looked at him sympathetically and didn't say anything else about food.

She had been talking quietly, but now she dropped her voice to a low whisper. "Is anyone looking for you, Steve? Do you have friends, a team, colleagues?"

Steve, trying to be as alert as he could be given his poor physical state, looked Elisabeth in the eyes. He considered his choices carefully. Finally, knowing that the young woman was risking her life by giving him water and care, he chose to trust her. He nodded once, silently.

She returned the nod. "I'll try to contact them. I can't promise, but I'll try."

Steve nodded again, then tipped his head back against the cement wall, his eyes fluttering closed. "Five-0," he whispered. "Hawaii. _Danno._ "

* * *

Scott knew they were outnumbered. That's why there was supposed to be a second team coming in behind them in the original plan. Now, though, they didn't know who they could trust, and that meant they would trust no one. They were on their own, outnumbered, and who knew what kind of shape Steve would be in when they got to him. Having an injured man in tow would make the exfil even more complicated than it was already going to be.

He sighed and put the binoculars back to his face. He and Greg were doing recon on the compound, trying to be as prepared as they could be when they went in. It was a slow, tedious task, but it was necessary. He tried not to let his mind wander, tried not to think about what Steve was facing inside. It had been nearly seventy-two hours. Once Danny and the rest of Five-0 had gotten a bead on the convoy, the SEALs began moving. Slowly, stealthily, keeping a safe distance. Ines knew they were coming—of course he did—but Scott would be damned if he led them into an ambush. No, they would bide their time. Even though it killed him to know Steve was suffering, he knew he didn't have a choice and he knew McGarrett would understand.

It didn't make it any easier though.

* * *

The group sat in the bullpen, quiet except for the occasional sigh or murmured curse. Jack had accessed a high-powered Navy drone, and it was showing the heat signatures milling around the compound. Callie wondered if one of them was Steve.

* * *

Elisabeth casually sauntered onto the expansive terrace overlooking the beach. "I'm going for a walk," she said to Felipe. "Care to join?"

Felipe Ines looked up from the newspaper he was reading. He smiled. "Not now, my darling," he purred. "Another time?"

"Of course," Elisabeth said. That was what she had counted on. She leaned down, wrapping her arms around him and pressing a kiss to his cheek before leaving to walk on the beach. Playing this game, the game she'd played for years, made her sick to her stomach, but right now it was a necessary evil. She had learned early on that Felipe liked her more than the other girls, and she often used it to her advantage. She had spent years perfecting this act, waiting for a moment to escape. Somehow, she hoped her moment and Steve's were the same.

* * *

"Five-0," Tani answered the phone. No one else wanted the menial task, and with Junior off with Steve on this mission, she had the least amount of seniority. Even Adam seemed to have more than her, which she didn't think was exactly fair. Not that that was something she was going to bring up, _ever._ It seemed like she would be stuck with phone duty until further notice. She had started answering the phone through the speaker on the smart table though, much to the annoyance of her colleagues.

There was no answer on the other end of the line. She checked the caller ID. Blocked, of course. She rolled her eyes. Stupid kids and their stupid pranks. "Listen—" she started.

"Five-0?" a feminine voice said softly from the other side.

"Yes," said Tani, exchanging looks with the others. "Who is this?"

"A friend," the voice replied. "I need to speak to…to _Danno."_

Danny jerked his head up.

_Steve._

* * *

**Chapter 22: Chapter 22**

* * *

Danny exchanged a look with the others.

"This is Danny Williams," he said to the caller. "A friend calls me Danno. Have you been in contact with him?"

He was careful not to give too much information. He didn't know who this caller was, and he didn't want to make the mistake of falling into a trap.

"I have. My name is Elisabeth. I know where Steve is being held and have talked with him."

Danny's heartrate quickened. "So he's alive?"

"Yes…" she said hesitantly. "But he isn't doing well. He's injured and sick. They aren't giving him much water and have withheld all food. They're keeping him alive, but not comfortable. I'm trying to do as much for him as I can, but I have to be careful. He needs to get out of here soon."

"We have a team working on that," Danny replied, hoping he could trust this Elisabeth. "Any intel you could give us would help. What kind of injuries are we talking about?"

"There's a wound in his abdomen and they've cut him along his torso and chest. His knee is in bad shape and I believe his arm is broken at least in one place but probably more. I think he has a concussion." She paused, her voice going soft and sympathetic. "He has been beaten badly."

"Damn it," Lou cursed quietly.

"And you said he's sick? What do you mean?"

There was silence on the other end of the line. "He—he was waterboarded. His breathing sounds bad, he has a cough, and he's running a fever. Where they're holding him is damp and cold. There's no bed or mattress, not even a blanket. He still has his uniform, but no socks or shoes."

"Son of a bitch!" Danny yelled, hitting the table. He looked at the others. "We have to get him out _soon._ Elisabeth, any information you can give us about the compound would be very helpful. How many men does Ines have in there?"

"Around twenty, I believe. They come and go."

"Okay. Are there guards?"

"Yes, two at each of the three gates."

"And where are you right now? How were you able to call us?"

"I'm on the beach. I told Felipe I was taking a walk."

"The compound is open to the beach?"

"Yes."

"Okay." Danny was scribbling notes furiously. "Is there any way you can get Steve a weapon of some kind? Anything to protect himself with?"

"Maybe," Elisabeth said hesitantly.

"We don't want to put yourself in harm's way, but he's a Navy SEAL. If there's any way he can fight back, he will."

She chuckled lightly. "Yes, from what I've heard he's given them a run for their money."

"That's my boy," Danny said, with something akin to pride in his voice. "Now. Can I reach you on this number again?"

"Yes, but I will only answer if it's safe. No one knows I have this phone—it's a burner I purchased long ago in hopes of escaping."

"Good, good. Would you be able to help our guys when they get there?"

"I will be happy to help as much as I'm able. May I ask that, in return, I also leave with your men? I was sold to Felipe by my stepfather after my mother's death several years ago. This is not the life I wish to live."

"Of course," Danny paused. "Elisabeth, how old are you?"

"Eighteen."

Danny's blood boiled. Only slightly older than Grace, this girl had gone through more in her lifetime than any child should.

"Elisabeth, I promise. I promise we'll get you out too, and I promise we'll do everything we can to get you on your feet here."

"Thank you. I promise to look Steve as best I can until your friends get here."

"I can't tell you how much that means to all of us. We know the risk you're taking, and we're thankful. You tell him his ohana loves him and he'll be out of there soon. Tell him to keep fighting and that he better not even think about giving up."

* * *

"Listen, Scott, we've got some intel for you. Apparently, a young woman talked to Steve and he was able to give her enough information for her to track down Danny at Five-0."

"A woman? Somebody on the inside?" Scott asked.

"Sounds like it."

"What did she say about Steve?"

"He's in bad shape. Busted arm and knee, tortured, waterboarded, probably a concussion…it doesn't sound good. She says he's sick, coughing and has a fever.

"Screw being careful then. We have to get to him now."

"Are you sure you don't want the second SEAL team as back up?"

"No," Scott said adamantly. "Someone leaked the mission, our location, everything. We can't take that chance with Steve's life. We'll go in alone."

"The girl, Elisabeth, estimates about twenty hostiles. You'll be outnumbered."

"We don't mind outnumbered, do we boys?" The rest of the men grinned.

"Hell, no," Jay said. "Now, let's go get our boy and kick the cartel's ass in the process."

* * *

 

Elisabeth walked silently down the hallway to the room where Steve was being kept, carrying as many supplies as she could without being noticed. She opened the door quietly.

He didn't move this time, didn't scramble to get away or make any effort to protect himself. His eyes were still closed as she moved into the room.

"Steve?" she whispered. "Steve, wake up." She took in how terrible he looked. She gently laid a hand on his forehead and was shocked at the heat she felt there. Feeling bad about waking him, but knowing she had to, she shook his shoulder. Surprised by the touch and jolted from sleep, he gasped as he woke, triggering a harsh coughing fit that sounded painful. Clutching at his chest, Steve opened his eyes wide and looked at Elisabeth.

"Wh-what's…?" he whispered in confusion around coughs.

"Shh. Take deep breaths. I brought a few things. First, water." She gave it to him and he drank gratefully. "I brought a granola bar for you too. I know you haven't eaten, and I know you probably don't want to, but you need to keep your strength up. I got in contact with Danno…Danny." She kept talking as she handed him two Tylenol. "He said they were coming for you, and for you to keep fighting. He also said to tell you your 'ohana' loves you, but I don't know what that word means."

"Family," Steve rasped.

"What?"

"Ohana means family. Not necessarily blood."

"Oh." The two sat in silence for a few minutes.

"I, uh, also brought this," she said nervously. She reached into her bag and produced a handgun, holding it out to Steve. She was obviously uncomfortable with it.

Raising his eyebrows, Steve took the gun from Elisabeth.

"Danny asked me to try to get you a weapon of some kind. This is one Felipe keeps in the house. I also brought these." She pulled out a box of bullets.

Steve nodded. He still felt awful and the pain was unrelenting, but things were becoming more even again and that gave him the surge of adrenaline he needed to last a little longer. He tucked the gun into his waistband.

"I think your friends are coming soon. You need to be as ready to move as possible when they get here. I've got supplies to bandage some of these wounds and get them cleaned up before you have to move so much."

"Thank you."

"Let's start with the largest knife wound," Elisabeth said, reaching toward Steve's abdomen.

He pulled back suddenly. "It's fine."

"I doubt that. Just let me see it. I don't claim to be a doctor, but I'm trained in First Aid." She reached again, this time successfully grabbing the hem of his shirt.

"Oh, Steve!" she gasped as she saw the clearly infected wound. "It's infected!"

"I know," Steve said calmly. "No medical treatment and conditions like these will do that. There's nothing we can do right now about it. Hand me the kit and I'll clean and bandage it the best I can."

"I can help you," Elisabeth said as she handed him the kit. "I don't mind."

"Are you sure?" Steve asked hesitantly. Truth be told, he was feeling very shaky and didn't know if he had enough control of his hands to take care of the wound himself.

"Yes. Now, lie back. I'll try to be as quick as possible, but I know this is going to hurt."

He hissed as the solution touched the wound. She looked at him apologetically. "I'm sorry."

"It's…fine. Just…keep going," he panted through the pain.

As carefully as possible, she bandaged it and moved on to the other smaller cuts. Pleased with the bandages, she moved to his bruised ribs. "These look broken. Do you want me to wrap them?"

"Yes…please," Steve managed to say.

She took her time wrapping the ribs, trying not to irritate any of the cuts scattered over his torso and abdomen. Moving on to his arm and knee, she didn't know what to do. Not willing to risk disturbing the bones any more, she made a makeshift sling out of a thin jacket she'd brought with her in her bag. "They broke your fingers," she said in a sad whisper. "I'm so sorry this has happened to you."

Steve nodded, but didn't respond aloud. Elisabeth didn't dare touch his knee. It was swollen to nearly twice it's normal size, and they both knew it was going to require surgery.

"You're not going to be able to walk on that."

"I'm going to have to," Steve replied, gritting his teeth. "I won't slow my team down."

"You're going to cause more damage."

"Pretty sure that's not possible." Steve gave her a lopsided smile, trying to make light of the situation. "It'll be okay. Do you know where they put my boots?"

She pulled them out of the bag.

"Mary Poppins," Steve said.

"Who's Mary Poppins?" Elisabeth asked, confused.

"Never mind. I'll tell you later. Danny—you told him you were being held against your will?"

"Yes, and I asked to leave Colombia with your team." She frowned. "I know I don't have the right paperwork though. I don't even have a passport."

"Forget the paperwork," Steve waved his good hand, but then winced at the movement it caused in his ribs. "I'll handle it."

He shivered hard then and leaned his head against the wall, what little energy he had already spent. "Damn fever," he muttered. "You said…they'd be here soon?"

She took a cloth and wet it with cool water, then laid it across Steve's forehead. "Sleep if you can. You're going to need as much energy as you can have. I'm not leaving."

"Mm," he murmured in agreement. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

* * *

Before leaving her room that morning, Elisabeth had packed a small bag with a few changes of clothes and the only picture she had of her mother, taking care to leave room for the medical supplies she planned to pack and Steve's boots. She hoped she could believe Danny Williams. She hoped that, soon, she would be out of this terrible place.

* * *

There was a commotion outside the building.

Elisabeth shook Steve awake. "Something's going on outside," she said. "Can you hear it?"

Instantly awake, he listened. "Gunfire," he said. His mouth was set in a firm line as he concentrated. "M4s," he grinned weakly. "Calvary's here."

Just then, the door flew open and Ines and three of his men barged into the small room. Ines' eyes widened at the sight of Elisabeth.

"Traitor!" he roared, lunging toward her.

In one swift movement, Steve managed to stand and push Elisabeth behind him, shielding her. Surprising Ines, he pulled the gun from his back and quickly fired, effectively stopping all four men. Ines was the last to die, his eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling.

* * *

Steve groaned, sliding down the wall and back onto the floor. He held his head with his good hand. The noise from the gun had set off the pain from the concussion, and Steve was in a world of hurt. The room was spinning, and he felt sick. He had had his fair share of concussions in the past, but never this bad. The vertigo was unbearable, and he briefly wondered if something else was going on.

* * *

Ever so quietly, the team of SEALs entered the building. Heading down a long hallway, they saw bodies lying in the doorway of a room.

"What the hell?" Jay muttered softly.

Scott grinned. "Betcha ten to one it was McGarrett."

Jay rolled his eyes. "I don't take bets when I know I'm going to lose."

Junior had never been so worried and relieved all at the same time. They had found Steve, but he was in terrible shape. Junior honestly didn't know how he was still alive, much less able to take down four key cartel members.

"Commander McGarrett!" Junior rushed to Steve's side, Scott and Jacks stepping over the bodies and coming right behind him. "God, Commander…" He gently touched Steve's arm while Jacks began to look over his injuries quickly.

Steve's eyes opened at the touch, twinkling with the tiniest bit of mirth. "Took y'all long…enough. Where…the hell have you been?"

Scott smiled at him. "It's good to see you, buddy. And, obviously, you did okay on your own." He motioned back at the doorway.

Scott took a good look at Steve, who had closed his eyes and was wincing as Jacks examined his knee. He didn't want to imagine the hell his friend had been through over the last few days.

Jacks looked up at Scott and gave him a disgusted look. "I swear I'd like to haul their asses up and kill them again. There's no reason to ever do this to a person. I can't believe he's still conscious, and I have no idea how he took those guys out."

"Sheer willpower is my guess," Junior volunteered.

Jacks nodded. "Most definitely."

The other SEALs had been talking to Elisabeth and now Jacks turned his attention to her. "You did a good job. Thank you for taking care of him."

"I'm sorry I couldn't do more. I gave him Tylenol, but I know he needs more than that."

"You did everything you could," Greg patted her arm. "We appreciate it."

* * *

"How are we going to do this?" Junior asked.

"As carefully as we can," Jacks said. "We're going to hurt him though."

" _He_ is right here," Steve ground out. "And I'll be fine. Let's go." He held his uninjured arm up and Junior hauled him up. Steve swayed on his feet and Junior and Scott grabbed him on either side. Steve's eyes fluttered closed.

"No, no, no, Princess," Jay said, moving closer in case an extra set of hands was needed. "No passing out."

"'M not gonna pass out," Steve mumbled.

"Yeah, well, that'd be much more believable if you weren't the color of a sheet, buddy." He put his hand on Steve's shoulder, grounding him. His voice was sympathetic when he spoke next. "I know you have to be hurting and you're burning up. Just lean on us, okay? We've got you. _We've got you_."

Steve nodded.

"You let us know if you need to stop, okay?"

Again, Steve nodded and the men gingerly headed toward the door. It was a slow trip, but to his credit, Steve didn't complain. His face was pale, but determined, and the others drew on that strength.

"Wha's th' plan?" Steve slurred, exhaustion and injuries catching up with him.

"Jack called in a few favors. We have a private jet waiting on us at an airfield near here. The pilot is a friend of Jack's, and there are some friends working security as well, just in case of any blowback from our little mission there. As soon as we're on it, we're heading back to Hawaii." Scott watched Steve as he answered. The flight was going to be long and difficult for Steve, but they didn't have another choice. He needed medical attention and there was no way they were going to a Colombian hospital.

* * *

"Stop," Steve said hoarsely.

"Sir?" Junior questioned.

"Gonna be sick," Steve murmured.

"It's alright. We've got you, sir," Junior said as Steve gagged and threw up the tiny bit of water he'd drank before beginning to dry heave.

Steve moaned, sagging against Junior. "'M sorry," he apologized.

"Nothing to be sorry for, sir," Junior insisted, glad he was there to help the man he looked up to more than anyone else. At first he hadn't known what to do, but then decided the Commander was sick and hurt, and— _screw it_ —everyone wanted comfort when they felt bad. He tentatively put a hand on his shoulder and, when he wasn't shrugged off, began to rub Steve's back. Junior pulled a bottle of water from his pack and offered it to Steve. He took a sip, rinsed his mouth, and spat. "Ugh," he shivered. "C-can we—do we have time to sit?" he asked, looking at Scott.

Scott looked apologetic. "Not really. We need to keep going. I'm sorry, Steve."

"'s okay," Steve mumbled, dropping his head. "'s okay."

* * *

By the time they got to the plane, Steve had nearly bitten through his bottom lip trying not to scream from the pain.

"Let's get him settled in the bedroom," Jacks said as they boarded. "I'll start an IV, get some fluids and morphine into him, and then we can get out of here."

* * *

**Chapter 23: Chapter 23**

* * *

There was something to be said for the way team guys rallied around their own. It was similar to the way a family worked, but it somehow seemed almost more intimate. Maybe it was the secretive nature of their work and the fact they could only share some things with one another, maybe it was the experiences they'd lived through together, or maybe it was the bond formed by bleeding and losing brothers together. Whatever the reason for the intimate closeness, this group of men was tight. Elisabeth watched as they worked together seamlessly to care for Steve.

Jacks was clearly in charge. He quietly told the others what to do. It seemed to be Junior's job to talk to Steve and keep him calm. Junior, the youngest on the team, seemed to be the one most affected by the commander's poor condition. Elisabeth wondered what their relationship was as she watched them. Junior was sitting on the bed carefully smoothing a cool cloth over Steve's face. When they had boarded the plane, the men had washed up as best they could and changed into clean clothes at Jacks' insistence. He wanted to keep everything as clean as possible. They had helped Steve to wash and change as well and it seemed to have made the bruises that covered his body show up even more than before. Elisabeth winced as she looked at him. She knew he had to be aching all over.

Elisabeth hung at the back of the group, not sure what to do. Jay looked up then and caught her staring. He flashed a brief smile at her and made his way over.

"Hey," he said quietly. "How are you doing?"

"Me?" Elisabeth asked, shaking her head. "I'm fine. But Steve…"

"He'll be okay. It's going to take a while, but he'll be okay. He's one of the strongest, most determined people I've ever met."

Elisabeth nodded. "I hope so. He saved my life today. Twice really. Once when Felipe came and again by giving me a way to get out of there."

"What are your plans once you get to Hawaii?"

Elisabeth laughed softly. "I have no idea. When this plane lands, I have no idea what I'm going to do. Felipe gave me a tutor until I finished high school and then allowed me to enroll at the University, but I have no money to attend college right now. I have no money for anything, no place to live, no car, no family, no friends…but I'm alive, and I don't have to be in that cartel anymore and for that I'm grateful." She shrugged. "I'll figure everything else out as I go."

"That's an amazing outlook to have. And I can tell you one thing right now—you do have friends right here on this plane. And when you land, I can guarantee that you're going to walk into a ready-made ohana that will accept you and take you in with open arms. Living arrangements, college, all that—Steve and Danny will take care of it." He motioned toward Steve. "Things will be up in the air until he's better, but it'll all be fine. They'll make sure you're okay."

Elisabeth nodded, not daring to believe her good fortune.

* * *

Steve was beginning to stir, grimacing and moaning softly as he did.

"Hey, commander" Junior quietly said. "How you doing?"

Steve coughed, curling up on his side. "Mm," he mumbled. He shivered. "'M cold."

The other SEALs scrambled to find more blankets. Scott tucked them around Steve. "Is that better?"

"Yeah," Steve mumbled, still shivering. "God, I hurt."

The others exchanged looks. For Steve to actually admit that he was hurting said a lot for the level of pain he was in.

"Can you give him anything else?" Scott asked Jacks.

Jacks gave a slight shake of his head. "I'm worried about his breathing, and morphine slows it down. I'm nervous about giving him anymore. He isn't taking deep enough breaths as it is. Plus, we're only an hour out right now. I don't know what they'll want to do first, or if they'll want to do surgery right away. I don't want to complicate things."

"I understand," Scott nodded.

"We're just going to have to help him through it the best we can."

"Alright," Junior said, nodding in determination. "We can do this."

* * *

Over the next hour, the SEALs monitored the fever that kept rising, held him as he threw up from the pain, and tried to provide as much comfort as they could.

"We're almost there, Steve," Junior soothed. "Almost there."

* * *

When the plane touched down in Honolulu, Callie's heart was in her throat. She was so, so grateful to have Steve back on American soil.

"He's never leaving again. Ever. No more missions or cartels or deployments or…anything. _No more anything._ We're going to get married and spend a month in Italy and then come back and live happily _and safely_ ever after. Being worried like this is ridiculous. It's not healthy. And that's just for me. I can't even begin to imagine what he's been through." The tears she'd tried so hard to keep in that day slowly dripped down her cheeks. " _God, what has he been through?_ How does a person come back from something like this?" Jacks hadn't been detailed in his account of Steve's injuries, but he did tell the ohana in Honolulu that it was bad and they needed to know the recovery would not be quick. Callie replayed that conversation over and over in her mind, dreading to know what Jacks really meant by it.

Danny gave her a hug. "He'll be alright, Callie. He's home now. We'll take care of him. Whatever he needs, we'll do it and everything will be okay."

"That's right," Lou agreed.

"And we'll stay as long as you want us to," Sally offered, rubbing Callie's arm. "Jack will have to go back to Washington some, but there's no reason I can't stay. That's nothing you need to decide now, of course, but I want you and Steve to know I'd be happy to."

"Thank you, Sally," Callie said, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue Tani had given her. "That's very kind of you." She took a deep breath. "Okay. I'm sorry, guys. I lost it for a minute there, but I'm good now."

Tani shook her head. "I think we've all lost it a time or two over the last few days. You don't need to apologize at all."

The rest of the group nodded.

"Okay," Jack said. "Looks like they're ready. Let's go welcome our guys home."

* * *

There was an ambulance waiting on the tarmac when the plane landed. Dr. Paul, the chief of staff at Tripler, had chosen to accompany the EMTs. Dr. Paul had been a friend of John McGarrett and had treated Steve in the past. He had known Steve a long time, and when he heard about what happened, he immediately announced he was going alone. He'd make the initial call as far as treatment went, and his plan would be radioed to the hospital. By the time the ambulance arrived at the hospital, everything would be ready to go.

Steve had gone into shock and was drifting in and out of consciousness as the EMTs and Dr. Paul boarded the plane with a stretcher.

"My Lord," Dr. Paul said, covering his mouth. "You took care of the people who did this?"

"Yes, sir," Scott confirmed, running a hand over Steve's hair. He needed to touch his friend to reassure himself.

Dr. Paul nodded. "That's good. Can someone tell me about his injuries as we move him?"

"I can do that, sir," Jacks said quickly and moved to talk to Dr. Paul in a more private conversation. The EMTs moved Steve carefully from the bed to the stretcher under the watchful eyes of the SEALs. Fiercely protective, they seemed to have closed ranks around their commander. Nothing, and no one, was getting to Steve without going through them first. They had discussed it during the flight.

"Watch his knee!" Jay growled.

"You need to cover him with those blankets," Eric said sternly, frowning. "He's shivering."

One of the EMTs made the mistake of telling the SEALs that would be against protocol. They didn't cover patients during transport, and certainly not with personal blankets.

Greg stood to his full height, towering over the two men. "Let me tell you something," he said in a low, threatening voice. "That man was tortured for days. He's running a fever of over 103 degrees. I'll be damned if I'm going to let him lie there and freakin' _shiver._ You feel me?"

The blankets were piled on Steve and the group left the plane.

The others were waiting outside. They knew time was of the essence, but they just needed to see him for themselves. What they saw didn't make them feel better at all.

"Hey," Scott said sharply to the EMTs. "Give her a minute." He motioned to Callie.

"We really need to get him—"

"He just made an eleven hour flight! I hardly think two more minutes will matter. Give her a minute."

Callie grabbed Danny's hand and the two walked closer to the stretcher and the man who meant so much to them both.

" _Steve_ ," Callie breathed softly. She kissed his forehead softly, concerned with the fever she felt there.

Miraculously, he somehow found the strength to fight his way to consciousness. His eyes found Callie's and he reached for her with his right hand. She grabbed it and held it tightly.

"You're home," she told him quietly. "I love you so much."

"Love you…too," he whispered before coughing harshly.

Danny laid a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Aw, buddy," he shook his head. "They did a number on you, didn't they?"

"M…okay, Danno. Don' worry."

"Of course I'm going to worry, you goof. We're gonna let these nice people get you to the hospital now so we can get you on the road to getting better, okay? We'll see you there in just a little bit."

Danny squeezed Steve's shoulder carefully. Callie leaned down and gave him a chaste, gentle kiss, then nodded to the EMTs.

"I'm going to go with him," Jacks said to Danny and Callie. They both nodded.

"Thanks, Jacks," Callie murmured as she watched Steve be loaded into the ambulance.

He gave Callie a quick hug. "I'll see you there, okay?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

As the ambulance pulled away, Callie clung to Danny as if her life depended on it.

* * *

**Chapter 24: Chapter 24**

* * *

Elisabeth hung toward the back of the group, clutching her bag. She felt like she was an intruder on this homecoming, and she was uncomfortable as she watched everyone exchange greetings and hugs. She was looking at the ground, thinking that Jay may have been mistaken in what he had told her earlier, when a voice spoke up.

"Hi," Callie said, touching Elisabeth's arm. "You must be Elisabeth. I'm Callie, Steve's fiancée. We're so glad you're here and safe. And thank you for all you did for Steve."

"I didn't do that much," Elisabeth said. "But thank you. And I'm very thankful to be here."

Callie nodded. "I want to talk with you more; please know that," she said kindly. "But we need to get to the hospital now. Can we talk more there?"

"Of course," Elisabeth said, nodding in understanding.

"I'm Danny," Danny said, sticking out his hand. "You're welcome to ride with me and Callie."

* * *

"Alright," Dr. Paul said to the group in the waiting room. He looked at Callie. "First, Dr. Ryan, are you here as Steve's fiancée or physician?"

"Both," Callie said firmly. "As his fiancée first, but I do expect my office to be informed of medications, treatment plans, and such through written records. Our personal relationship aside, he's still my patient and remains under my care for the treatment and management of radiation poisoning. I also have privileges here and intend to be part of his care team."

Dr. Paul nodded. "Understood. Speaking of the team, I've put together a phenomenal group of doctors. I want you to know that I chose the best of the best." He took a deep breath. "So, first, we've stitched up the stab wound in his abdomen and the deeper lacerations. The stab wound was already infected and has led to septicemia, I'm sorry to say."

"Damn it," Callie muttered.

"My thoughts exactly," Dr. Paul agreed. "He's got a hell of a fever right now. That infection is throwing his whole system for a loop, and, what's worse, that's not all we're dealing with.

He has pneumonia and an upper respiratory infection and he's severely dehydrated, as he has only been given small amounts of water and no food for several days." Dr. Paul shook his head. "He has a moderate concussion and a broken cheekbone. His left forearm is fractured in two places, as well as his left wrist." Dr. Paul stopped, looking at the group in sympathy, hating what he had to tell them next. "All of his fingers are broken on that hand."

Knowing someone you love has been tortured is horrible. But to have to think about the specifics, about the waterboarding and someone intentionally snapping each of their fingers was nearly unbearable.

"Steve's right patella is just shattered. I don't know how that happened. Knee caps are difficult bones to break, and usually we only see them from car accidents and the like. Maybe it was from a bad fall?"

"No," Elisabeth spoke up softly, eyes on the ground. "They did that with a metal pipe."

"A—a _person_ caused this damage?" Dr. Paul asked her.

"Not just one. Maybe three or four?" she spoke softly. She shook her head sadly. "They took turns."

"It's a miracle he's made it this far," Dr. Paul told the group. "The septicemia and pneumonia are our biggest concerns right now. He's going to need surgery to repair the damage to both his arm and knee, but he's too weak for that right now. He wouldn't make it through. As of right now, our plan is to get him comfortable and rehydrated, and give him heavy duty antibiotics. I can't give him as much pain medication as I'd like to because of the concussion. He's still feeling a great deal of pain from his injuries, and pain always slows recovery because it won't allow the body to rest. We'll treat him the best we can and then go from there depending on how he responds to the treatment."

Danny shook his head. "I'm sorry; I don't think I understand. What do you mean, depending on how well he responds? You'd obviously do the surgeries then, right?"

Dr. Paul sighed, taking time to look each person in the face. "You have to understand. Steve has been through major trauma. Right now, he's in septic shock, which means there's an infection in his blood stream that's wreaking havoc on all the systems in his body. I'm not sure how much you know about waterboarding, but it's essentially drowning a person over and over again. It's an awful, awful thing. His lungs are in terrible shape right now, even without the pneumonia."

"So what are you telling us?" Tani asked forcefully. "That we're going to lose him? What are his odds?"

Callie walked away from the group then. She knew the odds were not in their favor, and she didn't need to hear Dr. Paul confirm it. She didn't want to see Tani angry about it, didn't want to see the look of reality dawning on Danny's face, didn't want Junior— _bless him, sweet Junior_ —to try to console her when he was so close to falling apart himself.

* * *

"He's one of the strongest people I know," Sally said to her, gently touching her elbow as she approached. "Whatever the odds, God has this under control, Callie. He has since the beginning."

Callie nodded. "I know. It's going to be a long, tough recovery though."

"It is," agreed a voice from behind her. "That's why I told them as soon as he came in that he was my patient. Not that me saying that kept the others from fawning over him, but at least I'm his primary nurse again."

Callie turned to see Dinah, the registered nurse who had helped so much after Steve's skull fracture.

"Dinah," Callie hugged the woman.

"Hi, sweetheart," Dinah said warmly. "I hate we're meeting again under such unfortunate circumstances."

"Me too. But I'm thankful you're his nurse. It's good to see a friendly and familiar face. I know Steve will think so too."

"Oh yes, he and I are good buddies you know," Dinah winked, then turned more serious. "He isn't really engaging much right now though. I'm sure we'll return to our regular banter soon. We've got him settled now. Are you ready to see him?"

"Of course," Callie smiled.

* * *

"Hey," Callie said softly, coming into the quiet hospital room.

Two tired, bleary eyes looked back at her from the hospital bed. Against the white sheet and his pale skin, the bruises on his face and dark smudges under his eyes stood out. He had a feverish flush on his cheeks and his nose and mouth were covered by an oxygen mask. He weakly raised a couple of fingers on his right hand as a greeting.

She walked to the bed, her eyes never leaving his. "Hey," she said again. She reached out and brushed through his hair with her fingers.

He looked at her but didn't respond.

She pulled a chair to the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Mm," he mumbled, shaking his head slightly.

"Not good, huh?"

Again, a slight shake of the head. "Feel sick."

"Like nauseous?"

"No…just… _sick_." His eyes fluttered shut but he forced them open again.

Callie rubbed his arm. "It's okay, Steve. Sleep. You don't have to stay awake now. You're safe."

The fear in his eyes broke her heart.

"Don't leave," he whispered

"I won't, sweetheart," Callie said, pulling a chair close to the bed. "I'll be right here. Just rest."

She gently rubbed her fingers through his hair, careful to avoid the bruises. He sniffled and shifted, trying to get more comfortable. He shivered. Callie pulled the thin sheet and blanket up higher, taking care not to disturb his injured knee and arm. Steve's breath had evened out and he was fast asleep.

"Oh, Steve," she whispered. "Please be okay."

* * *

Dinah walked in quietly. "Hi, Dr. Ryan," she said to Callie. "How's our patient?"

"Not feeling too well," Callie said. She frowned. "And too quiet."

Dinah understood what Callie meant. Since he had arrived at Tripler, Commander McGarrett had spoken very little. She was worried. The physical injuries were massive, but she was afraid the psychological injuries were even more so.

* * *

**Chapter 25: Chapter 25**

* * *

**Thank you so much for the kind reviews! They have been so encouraging!**

**As always, the regular disclaimer applies: All recognizable characters are not my own.**

* * *

Danny tapped on the hospital room door lightly before pushing it open.

He knew Steve would look bad, but he hadn't quite prepared himself for just _how bad_ and it caused him to stop in the doorway. Steve was pale and sweating, with colorful bruises decorating most of the skin Danny could see. His eyes were glassy and tired, showing the weariness he felt. His left arm was in a sling held close to his body, and his right leg was elevated under the sheet to help with swelling.

"Hey, babe," Danny said softly, shaking himself into action.

Steve looked toward the door warily, then turned his head into the pillow and closed his eyes.

Callie stood up and motioned for Danny to take the chair by the bed. She gave him a tired smile. As she hugged him, she whispered, "He needs you, Danno."

Danny nodded. "You go get something to eat or drink. I'll work on sorting our boy out." Callie squeezed his arm and took her leave.

He pulled the chair as close to the bed as he could. "Ah, hell, babe."

He didn't get a response, but he hadn't expected one. This was not the kind of experience you bounced back from quickly, even in perfect health. He understood why Steve wasn't talking. He didn't know the specifics, not yet, but he could put enough of the pieces together to get a fairly good picture of what had probably happened, and the picture was ugly. Steve needed love, support, and reassurance by the ton, and Danny was the person—well, one of the people—for the job. He sat in the chair and watched his friend. How had this happened to Steve again? How could such a good man always end up in such terrible situations? Danny felt like God or the universe or mankind or _somebody_ owed Steve a break. A long break filled with nothing but good things because if anybody deserved it, it was Steve.

Danny knew his partner was a different breed. Steve was perfectly willing, at any point in time, to give up his life for someone else. He didn't have to love or even know that person—just that they existed was enough for him. He had proved it over and over again, and, now, with the girl from the village and Elisabeth, it was evident again. Sometimes that kind of selflessness in his partner infuriated Danny. Why couldn't Steve see how important _he_ was, how wrecked so many people would be if he died during one of these selfless missions? Danny didn't know how to get that through his partner's thick skull. And it wasn't just about serious life-or-death things. No, it went as far as he would work himself into the ground so the rest of them could leave at five to go be with their families. He would work all the holidays so, again, the rest of them could be off. Watching his partner sleep restlessly, Danny prayed Callie could cause him to see reason this holiday season. Maybe she could convince him that he deserved to have time off, too.

But, Danny thought, Steve would be off this year for the holidays, wouldn't he? Thanksgiving was next week, and Danny doubted Steve would even be out of the hospital by Christmas.

"Damn it," he cursed in a whisper, tears stinging his eyes. "That's not what I meant by taking time off, babe. I hate this. I hate seeing you sick and hurt. You don't deserve a minute of this, Steven, and, I swear, after we get you through this I'm going to wrap you in bubble wrap and never let you out of my sight again."

* * *

Steve coughed weakly, wrapping his right arm around his broken ribs. He groaned. Danny had been lost in his own thoughts, but immediately snapped to attention at the noise. He glanced at the heart monitor as the beeping quickened.

"Hurting?" Danny asked, laying a hand gently on top of Steve's head.

Steve opened his eyes briefly, and the pain there shook Danny. "Mm," Steve hummed in affirmation.

"I'll call for the nurse."

"Don't…bother," Steve whispered hoarsely, finally speaking. "Can't have…anymore…now. Con-," he grimaced and made a whining sound before going on, "Concussion….and meds slow….my breathing. Doctor said…no…more…now."

"So you just have to deal with the pain?"

Steve squeezed his eyes shut. "Mm-hm."

Danny swung his gaze to Scott, who had been sitting in the corner. Scott was standing now that Steve was showing obvious signs of pain, frowning and clenching his fists at his side. "Is that true?"

Danny hated that he was having to turn to someone else for information about his partner, information that he should have heard straight from the doctor himself. The SEALs, in typical SEAL fashion, had swooped in once they had arrived at the hospital, insisting that one of them would always be present for as long as Steve was in the hospital. Somehow Scott and Jack had even forced their way into the ER along with Jacks when Steve first arrived. Danny had stood in the hallway outside the treatment room while Steve's condition was assessed. The tiny room was crowded with both bodies (well-built SEALs) and big personalities and attitudes (the SecNav, SEALs, and multiple doctors), and Danny thought it best if he just stayed out of the mix for the moment.

"Frustratingly enough, yeah," Scott confirmed. "To be fair to the docs, he's got a lot of morphine on board right now. It just isn't touching the amount of pain he's dealing with. He needs—"

"—Dilaudid," Danny said as Scott said the same thing.

Scott grinned. "You know him well."

Scott moved to the edge of the bed, grabbing Steve's wrist and pushing on his good shoulder, grounding him. "Hey," he said with more compassion than Danny had ever thought possible from the strong, tough man. "Breathe. Open those eyes, buddy, and look at me." It took a minute, but Steve obeyed. "Alright," Scott smiled. "There you are. Now, breathe through it." Steve's heart rate and respiration only quickened. "Uh-huh, uh-huh, no, no, no. You've got to calm down. You're going to hyperventilate. I know it's bad, I know it hurts, and I know you want to cuss me for even acting like I know how bad, but you're spiraling, buddy. You keep your eyes open and on me. Danny, move over here." Danny moved to the same side of the bed as Scott. "Look, Dog, Danny's here too. You keep your eyes on us, alright? Breathe with me. In 1-2-3-4; hold 1-2-3-4; out 1-2-3-4. You're one of the best at this, Steve. Use it to get through this. Do it again." He watched Steve's breathing and checked the monitor to see that his heart rate was coming down. "That's it, buddy. That's it. You're alright…" He dropped his voice volume even lower. "You're past it now. Just rest."

"Breathing techniques?" Danny asked.

"Yeah. Have you never noticed him doing it before? It's called combat or tactical breathing. He's really good at it, and meditation too. Had to be, being a sniper. I've seen him settle down, get into position, and not move for hours. His life, our lives, depended on him not moving, and—even though he has all this crazy energy—he could focus, meditate, and do it. That's what he's doing right now. I just had to remind him to."

"That's…impressive. And, yeah, I've seen him go still like that before, but I never asked him about it. I figured it was something like that."

Scott chuckled and shook his head. "Gosh, his energy. Like the damn Energizer bunny, you know?"

Danny rolled his eyes. "Tell me about it." He laughed.

Scott turned serious. "Look, I know it probably seems like we just came in and took over everything. And, well…I guess we did. I'm sorry for that. It's a team thing, I guess—that man right there is my CO, but he's also one of my very best friends…my brother, you know? And you don't leave a man behind, even after you get back. That's the way we operate. One of us will always be in this room. We're here for whatever he needs—or whatever Callie needs, or you and your team need…We'll be here, without question, for as long as it takes him to get back on his feet."

Danny understood where Scott was coming from, and realized that Scott, and the rest of the SEALs, were just doing what they knew and had the very best intentions. Danny immediately felt better. His hackles, admittedly, had been up but the conversation had soothed his annoyance.

"Or until he gets pissy about you being here." Danny grinned.

Scott snorted. "That'll happen probably sooner rather than later, no doubt. It's alright though. We've all seen him pissed off before. And he knows how it goes. No matter how bad his attitude is, we're not going anywhere."

Danny nodded, understanding. "Alright then. He's got a bunch of people in his corner. And I'm pretty sure he's going to need every one of us."

Scott shook his head sadly. "Man, it breaks my heart, but I think you're right."


End file.
